Reasonable Doubt
by eyrianone
Summary: Scene imagined based on the promo for 5 x 05 'Probable Cause' – 'The pain of knowing she doesn't trust him implicitly will not go away.' ONE SHOT - complete.


**Title: **Reasonable Doubt.

**Author: **eyrianone

**Rating: **T

**Spoilers: **US promo for 'Probable Cause'.

**Summary: **Scene imagined based on the promo for 5 x 05 'Probable Cause' – 'The pain of knowing she just doesn't trust him implicitly will not go away.'

**Disclaimer: **(From ViaLethe) – 'Words are mine. World ain't.'

**A/N: I guess you could say this is my imagined version of the final scene.**

* * *

Kevin Ryan sits in a booth at the Old Haunt with him long after closing time has passed. His friend looks as drained as he is, tired and emotionally wrung out – but in Ryan's case Castle knows it's all because the younger man is truly hurting for him.

The last two days have been among the worst the author can ever recall and he'd really like to get passing out drunk now and forget they ever happened, but he won't do that, he won't do that because there is nothing that could ever make his memories of the doubt in Kate's eyes go away.

He honestly fears that he'll be seeing that image forever – and it's killing him. His insides and his certainties are all shredded to bits because his new reality is that Kate – his Kate, still doesn't completely trust him. So Castle stays resolutely sober, nursing a single scotch he can't face drinking because seriously, seriously – what is he supposed to do with this?

Ryan downs the remainder of the single malt in his hand though and then fiddles nervously with the empty glass, sliding it back and forth on the worn wood of the table. He's shooting the writer quick commiserating glances every other second that Castle knows about, but keeps his eyes focused downward to avoid. The young detective has been the author's only hold-out. The only one who even when the evidence against him mounted, through the arrest, the interrogations – all of it - never once looked at Castle like he could be capable of such heinous brutality. Ryan – and thank God for him, just kept on defending him, kept on repeating 'I know this man, he's my friend, and there is no-way he did this'.

It's the reason he's the only one who's here now, the only one who after the truth finally came out, Castle could permit to come with him. And even though his immediate family also remained firmly in his corner, truthfully, in this moment of quiet, now that he's exonerated and free, he's never felt quite so alone.

How did his life go in the space of two tiny weeks from the sheer bliss of being in love and alone with Kate in the Hamptons – to this?

He can close his eyes and see her still, straddling his waist, the heat of her already undoing him, her eyes dark, so full of what looked like love and longing and all of it for him – and then the image changes, it distorts, becomes instead her face staring at him like he's capable of betrayal, a distrust and a fear of him – doubt coloring everything.

* * *

Ryan is seriously worried.

Castle is so quiet and withdrawn and the young Irishman hasn't got a clue what to say to him. Drinks at the Old Haunt that should have been somewhat celebratory are actually more like a wake and Ryan's terrified that's exactly what it is, a 'wake' for Castle and Beckett's relationship.

Two weeks ago they were so happy – so blatantly, radiantly happy. There has to be something he can do to help them save this. Some words he can find to help his friend find his way past his obvious pain.

"You should have let Beckett come with us," he says finally, unable to sit there just silently commiserating any longer.

He sees Castle swallow, watches as his knuckles turn white as his fingers tighten around his whiskey glass, but the author remains mute.

Ryan tries again.

"You know she wanted to be here."

Nothing.

"Castle-"

"I don't know how to get past it."

Ryan breathes slowly. This is a start he thinks, at least Castle is talking.

"Past?"

"The look in her eyes, her questions, the undeniable fact that there was a moment – however fleeting, that she believed it was a possibility I actually did this."

"It was fleeting. Castle it was so very fleeting, she defended you over and over again."

The writer looks up.

"Until she didn't," he says defiantly.

"She loves you." Ryan retorts adamantly. "And you love her."

Castle's eyes shine with unshed tears.

"And I would never have doubted her."

Ryan sighs, rakes a hand through his hair disheveling it, he reaches for the right words again.

"When we found out about Senator Bracken, you clearly had your doubts then."

A harsh sound escapes the author.

"Vengeance for a murdered mother on an evil man is a little different than thinking she could ever cold bloodedly plan and execute someone, someone innocent – just for kicks."

And Castle has him here.

"I want to get over it Ryan – I do, but God she looked at me like she was afraid of me, like I could hurt her, would betray her with another woman. It's been four years, four years and everything we've been through and she still doesn't see that I'd die to protect her, that who she knows is the real me? What more could I have done to earn her trust?"

"Castle-"

"No – you tell me. Imagine this happening to you – imagine that Kate is Jenny."

Oh God. It would kill him, it would; even the thought of it is completely toxic and taints things. But Kate isn't Jenny, who's open and trusting and has never had to deal with a murdered mother, corrupt cops and betrayals that scar everything. And maybe that's what he has to help Castle see here – that this is more about 'Beckett's' issues than 'Kate's' ability to have faith in him.

"I would die," he admits quietly, holding Castle's tortured eyes with his own, the empathy he feels for his friend blazing. "I would, I know it. But honestly Castle, you're over simplifying."

The writer's jaw tightens, his eyes get colder, but he doesn't say anything and he holds Ryan's gaze, he's listening.

"Beckett doesn't trust as far as Jenny can. She's been betrayed and she's been hunted and she's still learning how to give anyone faith unconditionally. Hell Castle, even her father . . . Please just try to see that it's not _you_."

Castle closes his eyes and sighs, but his pain is still just pouring out of his soul.

"But-"

Ryan interrupts.

"No. Really Castle, as much as that moment of doubt is destroying you, just for a moment please put yourself in Kate's shoes. I know she has more faith, more trust in _you_ than in anyone else alive – hell I've _seen_ it. But with her history and the weight of everything that was piling up against you, for a single moment that faith failed. But in truth it failed her. It failed her and not you, and you know that it's eating her alive right now. You know that when we left tonight and you didn't want her with you she started to believe she's lost you."

Eyes still resolutely closed the writer replies,

"I just want to stop seeing that look on her face."

"I want you to stop seeing it too."

Kate's voice breaks over them both, and two sets of startled blue eyes latch onto her standing before them.

Ryan recovers first; pushing to his feet he manages the tiniest flash of a smile in her direction.

"Didn't hear you come in," he says, before he turns to Castle his eyes pleading silently with his friend to let Beckett stay and say what she needs to. He extends his hand to the author and Castle grasps it tightly.

"Thanks," he says earnestly, "I mean it Kevin - for everything."

Ryan shrugs smiling, and then points his free thumb at the door.

"I'm gonna go, it's been a long couple of days, I need some time with Jenny," he says. "Thanks for the drink."

The author manages a weak smile before he releases Ryan's hand and drops his gaze in favor of staring at the table, so the young detective turns to leave but before he does he mouths quickly at Beckett, 'talk to him', and offers her an encouraging smile.

Kate nods and moves quickly to block Castle in case he's planning on escaping when she slides into the booth alongside him. He won't look at her and she doesn't blame him, she can only imagine – has done nothing but imagine – what her moment of doubt has done to him.

"Forgive me," she whispers, reaching for his hand and flinching when he moves it away from her. He says nothing but he's fairly vibrating with tension.

"Forgive me Castle – please."

"Do you have any idea how much it hurt?" he says at length. "Any idea what it's like to realize the love of your life believes you capable of a sadistic murder?"

Beside him she shakes her head.

"No," she says brokenly, "No because the love of _my_ life would never fail me in such a way. But then he's much stronger and has far more faith in those he loves than I may ever be or be capable of. And for that I'm so sorry Castle, I'm so sorry that I let my issues overwhelm me."

It's the first time she's ever told him that she loves him and suddenly that's all that matters. Her words replace the distorted images in his brain and the balm of them is just enough to make the pain bearable, enough to let him breathe again without the ache.

Kate loves him, she loves him and she's sorry.

"I know," he tells her. "I know how hard you're trying Kate and I know it isn't easy for you. I just wish there was some way I could make you believe in me."

When she reaches for his hand this time he lets her grasp it, and he twines his fingers in her slender ones and squeezes gently.

"Listen to me," she pleads. "Listen and listen well Castle. All you have to do is forgive me for doubting, that's all I'm asking. Forgive me, and let me love you. Because I do love you Castle, and you should know that even in that moment when I doubted you – I swear to you I never doubted that."


End file.
